Psyker Landshark

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Ranbu no Izayoi

Frankly, Izayoi was impressed, despite herself. Even considering how much slower she was compared to her prime, it was still quite the feat to actually come this close to ending her life. Of course, no amount of respect for this redheaded Skaelian's abilities would overrule the absolute fury she felt at herself for growing weak enough to allow such a blade to reach her. That fury influenced her next decision by a significant amount.

Out of spite, Izayoi only tightened her grip on her sword and drove it ever so slightly into the side of the man's neck to pierce skin, sneering at the new woman as her victim whimpered.

"Go on." She said quietly, her gaze unwavering. "Fire. My blade will still find its mark. Will you let your countryman die for this?" With so little left to live for besides vengeance, she felt no compunction about wagering her own life in this standoff. The rest of her party's actions were immaterial to Izayoi, even as she took note of them from the corner of her eye. In this moment, all that mattered were the next few seconds.

But the tension was cut with the Edrenian king finally moving to stop the brewing feud. Hmph. What an unsatisfying finish. Izayoi waited patiently for the first offender to back down before she looked back to Eliane.

"Your countryman threatened our compatriot's life first. I merely thought it appropriate to respond in kind." Was the only explanation Izayoi gave as she slowly lowered her sword from the man's neck, watching dispassionately as he ran off to rejoin his party. Judging by the sudden smell in the air, he may have even soiled himself. With everything settled, she deliberately turned her back on the Skaelian gunbreaker, meeting the gaze of the king's knights in challenge for a moment. For obvious reasons, it seemed several had their attention on her specifically. Once upon a time, she would have decided to rattle them a bit. But now, the prospect held little interest to her. So with a dismissive huff, Izayoi sheathed her sword, glancing back at Eliane briefly.

"Skaelian. Reaching my throat with a blade proves you are not without worth. Consider joining us, rather than those bleating fools." Her piece said, Izayoi started trudging back over towards her party.

"You are unharmed?" The samurai asked Neve as she approached, briefly looking over where the Unicorn idiot had pointed a blade at her. No apparent injuries. "Good. Try to get some rest." She advised, turning to return to their chambers herself. "The journey ahead will be long, and the roads are not without peril these days. It would be best to save your strength."

She started to walk off, but a particular thought ran through her mind. Ugh. Of course. They should have established this earlier.

"One last thing." Izayoi turned around to face the group. "We must establish a clear chain of command. One among us ought to lead." She took in a breath, closing her eyes. "It will not be me." If her regrets on her chosen path coalseced in a singular moment, it was the doomed last stand she'd dragged good, loyal men into to satisfy her own shattered pride. Never again. Her eyes opened, gazing at one person in particular.

"I nominate the dragoon. You have command experience, do you not, Lord?"

@Ambra @Click This @vietmyke

Fire Emblem: Crestfallen

Theodoric Branden Marlon

At last. Irinduil. Between his father and Gwendolyn's tales of the place, Doric had been waiting for years to finally set foot within its walls. This was where the path to his future was decided. With all the expectations placed upon him already, Theodoric knew that nothing short of excelling would be tolerated by those who would judge him and his worthiness as Marlon's heir in the future.

The ride from Mordlind had been fine. He'd not seen Parthenia in some months, and it was always good to catch up. Though they'd been told there would have been three within the carriage, and yet the third had never showed up. The caravan had waited for some time before eventually giving up and moving on, so as to not let the remaining passengers be late. Given that it seemed both houses had an equal number of students, perhaps there had just been alternative arrangements made?

Speaking of catching up, it had been good to see Sherry and Roland again as well. There hadn't been an opportunity to actually speak yet until now, but it seemed other people were monopolizing the conversation. Sherry being named house leader was...not unexpected. In a way, Doric was thankful for it. There was enough for him to deal with already without the added pressure of being the face of the house. The caveat was that, well, Sherry was herself. Capable enough in a formal setting, but casually? They were friends, but from an objective standpoint, Sherry's temper and rashness were a recipe for disaster when it came to leadership. He'd not seen her in half a year, but Doric doubted much had changed.

Thus, when an absolutely massive man that was somehow a student decided to begin to rib Sherry, with others following shortly after, Doric simply chuckled under his breath. Hopefully, something would even her temper out eventually.

"A brave man, to provoke the ire of Galbia's hellion. No offense, Roland." Doric clapped briefly, genuine in his compliment of Andrion. "Just watch out, though. She'll be furious at you for about a week before something else sets her off, and then her grudge with you will be all but forgotten. Personal experience." He stretched a hand out for the absolute unit to shake, still chuckling.

"Theodoric, of House Marlon. But please, call me Doric. The same goes to the rest of you whom I'm unfamiliar with, of course."

@ERode @Ithradine

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Knight RP

Renar Hagen

As Fionn and Nicomede returned, Renar briefly noted that they only had one additional knight in tow. Between the three of them, they'd roped in double their original number as reinforcements. That was fine. He hadn't been expecting too many to be available on a moment's notice at this hour of the night.

"A half dozen will be enough. The Knight-Captain deployed with about the same number." Renar nodded to Fionn's inquiry before moving to a chestnut rouncey. He didn't recognize this particular one, but that was a moot point. At this hour of the night, it didn't particularly matter which steed he took. It would be returned before dawn without its owner ever knowing.

"Saddle up. Speed is of the essence here. We make through the city, toward the Cazt tombs. Slow for nothing. It may make the difference between arriving as timely reinforcements or arriving to put down the freshly raised." He made sure his poleaxe was strapped snugly to his back before cracking the reins on his borrowed steed.

Once everyone was mounted atop their horses, Renar led the charge, steadily speeding his steed up to a full gallop as they started making their way through the city streets. The distance to the crypts was short enough that they didn't need to ration the horses' stamina, and even if it had been necessary, they were still on a short timeframe regardless.

@The Otter @Krayzikk

The Envenomed

Salvator Rasch

The ride over hadn't been bad. He'd never ridden in a Unztadtlige​ warform before, but it still beat a good portion of the rustbuckets he'd had to commandeer over the years. Hell, the fact that they even had a ride was more than was expected sometimes. Still, the squad couldn't stay in the tank forever. They had a job to do, and if a warform could've gotten it done, then the Intransigence might as well have sent conventional infantry.

As Rasch disembarked, he paid polite attention to the ZRF trooper, even as he briefly swept the area. If the locals were content to think they were mercs, Salvator wasn't going to contest that. Less trouble maintaining a cover that way, even if the prospect of being assumed to only be in it for the money offended him. Judging by the quality of the locals' gear, though, these were some poor bastards. Up-armored mining and hazmat gear. The bad old days.

The voidhanger simply nodded at the tarrhaidim that continued speaking, even as the squad approached the rendezvous.

"Don't concern yourself too much about us or our contact. We get fragged, not your problem." The veteran rasped in response. By all rights, they wouldn't be staying with this squad long. That said, Rasch turned to glance at the rest of the team he was saddled with.

"Taking point." Was all he said, keeping professional. Carbine raised, Rasch stalked forward, keeping to cover as he followed the footprints leading to one of the buildings.

The Envenomed

Salvator Rasch

"Far as I'm concerned, the mission never ends."

Name: Salvator Rasch

Age: 77

Species: Voidhanger

Appearance:
Stands at 6’2”. Lean, athletic build. Blue skin and luminescent green eyes mark him as a voidhanger rather than just another human. Head is shaved bald, but wears his facial hair in a full beard. For a voidhanger reaching his species’ middle age, Salvator is surprisingly free of mutation, thanks to the gene mods he’d received from the Liberation Front military decades ago. His equipment bears old OSLF patches: remnants of a military and units long since destroyed.

Background:
For the man born as Salvator Rasch, the Long War against all who sought to consume the OSLF defined his life from his youth. Born into a voidhanger flotilla settled within Liberation Front space in 4160, Salvator spent the first two decades of his life more than aware of the sword looming over the collective heads of everyone and everything he'd ever known. Thus, he left his flotilla to enlist in his local branch of the OSLF military the moment he became of age, descending from the fleet to the Black City below as he sought to defend his home the only way he knew how. It was during his first deployment on the Front's borders that Corporal Rasch's superiors found he had a budding aptitude for asymmetrical warfare, and encouraged him to try out for special forces. He passed with flying colors, and finished his training just as the Helios Subjugation was beginning in 4180.

Over the next decade, Rasch and his fellow operators were deployed across OSLF space, putting out bush fires and proxy incidents as best they could. But it was never enough. As the years passed and Rasch flew up the ranks until he was given command of his own team, the amount of information he was authorized to access grew, and the picture became clearer. But it wasn't until his Black City was caught in the crossfire between NATO and the Conglomerate that Major Rasch understood. But understanding didn't help as Rasch and his team found themselves fighting a desperate boarding action against the NATO flagship of the invasion to try to cut the head off the snake and stop at least half of the shooting. They succeeded, and the ship went up in flames, but at the cost of the entire squadron, minus Salvator himself.

When he emerged from the wreckage of his escape pod, Salvator was greeted with the sight of Conglomerate ships descending upon his home city, his people capitulating soon after. In disgust that everything he'd fought for amounted to nothing, Salvator fled the city and into the reaches of space. Across nearly three decades of the Veiled War, he fought as a mercenary and assassin, not caring for what banner he served as long as he hurt another. The only mission he had left in his life was to avenge the Liberation Front, by any means necessary. It was near the end of this shadow conflict that Salvator found himself headhunted and recruited by Intransigence elements. Former OSLF personnel that hadn’t been happy with the new order sought him out, and he eagerly joined up with them just in time for the Reckoning of Empires to begin.

Over the next four years, he fell back into his old role, serving with black ops elements to defend Intransigence space and strike against its enemies. The demands of the war ensured that the roster of those he worked with was ever changing and shifting due to casualties and logistics, but he remained. Salvator Rasch would fight this Long War so long as both he and his enemies drew breath, no matter the cost.

Character Evaluation: A bitter veteran of the Long War, Salvator has known little but soldiering for most of his life. He is caustic and cynical, but views himself as one of the only ones left carrying on the OSLF’s ideals and legacy. In a group, Salvator will bite his tongue and keep his opinions to himself should he feel they go against the grain, but something always slips out eventually.

As a remnant of the OSLF that bought heavily into the party line, Salvator despises galactic imperialism, believing strongly in the right to planet or system-wide self determination. Large political unions invite skepticism from him, with even the Intransigence not being completely safe from his distrust. His worst-case but still alarmingly-plausible scenario is that the Intransigence becomes no better than the systems it fights against, its leaders abusing their power and authority for their own benefit. From there, he'd be back at square one.

Skills:

• Veteran soldier
• Infiltration
• Demolitions
• Close-quarters combat, both unarmed and with knives
• Small unit tactics
• Anti-ethereal combat

Etherealism:
Trained since youth to master his people’s innate predilection towards the ether, Salvator manifests his ethereal abilities through specializing in support and augmentation. He favors physical enhancements, stealth fields, and jacketing ammunition in sheathes of ethereal power. Salvator is skilled enough with support etherealism that he is capable of enhancing those around him as well, though at equivalent cost to his qillatu resistance. Outside of his specialty, the demands of his role also led him to grasp both blink jumps and void-signature jamming, both of which aided greatly in black operations.

Loadout:

• Semi-powered armor: Modified armor built to Intransigence specifications, following the same design principles as the majority of its military. Provides a measure of physical enhancement and is built to amplify Rasch’s ethereal augmentations.
• OM-27 Carbine SOPMOD: Heavily modifiable ballistic carbine. Possesses a number of possible accessories in the kit for customization, but Rasch tends to prefer sound suppression and light weight above all.
• Marshall Industries Magnum: Semi-automatic heavy ballistic pistol fitted with a built-in suppressor to minimize its profile.
• Ammo: Salvator primarily makes use of armor-piercing explosive rounds for both of his guns, but carries backup magazines of EMP and anti-ethereal rounds for situations that AP-EX and ethereal jacketing can’t handle. Also carries a variety of grenades.
• Monofilament knives: Carries multiple combat-grade blades on his person, with most balanced for throwing. Keeps a larger one sheathed at his side for CQC purposes and wielded alongside his pistol.
• Adaptive camouflage cloak: Cloak and hood woven with refractive chemical substances that blend their coloration with the surrounding environment when a targeted electrical charge is run through to activate them. Aids with concealment for covert ops.

The Lion's Banner: A Fire Emblem-Inspired Anime Fantasy RP

Kayliss Lambert

As the briefing finished, Kayliss folded her arms in front of her from her position in the back corner of the gathering, her brow furrowed in thought. Necromancers. A vexing enemy for her, all told. Certainly, the mages themselves were but mere men if they were taken off guard, her skillset and tools didn't quite work for dealing with actual undead. Blades and poison designed to cut to a living target's vitals weren't exactly effective when dealing with deadened veins and shambling bones. Fortunate that the Lions had so many heavier fighters better suited to dealing with undead chaff.

Of course, that didn't preclude the option of their superior officer already having an idea of what to do with her. So with that in mind, Kayliss silently wove her way through the gathered crowd and to the front, waiting patiently some distance away from the camp's nem merchant while she made her appeal. The Crownsblade briefly narrowed her eyes down at the side of Lirrah's head. A walking equipment caddy, and requiring an escort? Kayliss had her own opinion on that, though she wouldn't give it unless asked. A waste of resources and men that could be utilized more efficiently. If the merchant thought her stock would be useful, then she could at least be bothered to hand it out to those who would actually be getting their hands dirty.

Regardless, as the...girl? Woman? Nem of an age Kayliss couldn't quite distinguish finished her appeal, the assassin simply appeared in Velvetica's peripheral vision, bowing her head to the Steel Princess.

"Any specific orders, my lady? Otherwise, I assume I've your permission to embed myself within another unit?" While she'd prefer Cadmon and Istvan's aid thanks to familiarity and the fact that they would know how to properly utilize her, it wasn't exactly Kayliss's choice.

@VitaVitaAR

Strange Gospel: A Heavily Persona-Inspired Urban Fantasy RP

Nakano Nagi

Whatever the hell was going on with Strange Gospel, it was definitely making her stronger when she was pulled over to the other side. Or maybe she just got juiced up as her Echo did. Either way, Nagi's punch certainly wouldn't have hit these monsters that hard even a month ago. Hell, it slammed back a good distance away. Not that she was going to complain about it. The piece of crap was dying. Time to move in for the kill.

Or at least Nagi would have, if the thing didn't decide to offer up some last-ditch resistance. Her first instinct was to just evade the grasping arms and weave through them to finish the fucker off, but some part of her brain remembered that Gotoh was still in the back. Fuck. If Nagi dodged, it might go for her instead. And as annoying as the girl was, Nagi really didn't want Yuzu's death on her conscience. Oh, this was going to blow.

A mental command had Belial returning to her, arms outstretched protectively in front as both of them charged forward, one behind the other. Hellfire surrounded her Echo as they made a mad dash, aiming to reach the beast before it could do too much damage to Belial. Her Echo's flames weren't that strong compared to its claws, and enough of the monster's arms grasped it to the point where Nagi was feeling a good amount of pain, but she powered through, Belial grasping the monster with its own arms and spinning it around to pin it in place.

"Eat it, shitbag!" She bellowed, leaping up onto the monster and holding on with her left hand as her right began to mercilessly pound into it. One punch. Two. Three. Before long, nothing was left of the beast besides blood and black ichor, some of it splashing on Nagi and staining her clothes as she landed back down on the ground, Belial hovering menacingly next to her. She stayed there for a moment, taking in a few gulps of air as she caught her breath and checked on her own condition. The fuckwit had gotten a few hits in at the last moment there, but she could still keep going. She'd been in worse shape after taking on those punks from across town a few months back.

"Alright," Nagi stood back up, glancing back towards her charge. "C'mon, Gotoh. We've still got somewhere to be. Get your ass in gear. And don't worry about the stains, they kinda just disappear once we're out of here." She beckoned Yuzu forward, starting to move towards her objective again afterward.

@Pitsuji

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Knight RP

Renar Hagen

Good sense bid Renar to not retort to Tyaethe with the first thought in his head, which was that by all rights, she was technically in charge with the Knight-Captain's absence. Goddesses knew that was how it ostensibly went in the two years he'd been here before Captain Fanilly's ascension to her role. Still, at least the vampire had the good sense to allow Renar to run off and join the fray.

As expected, Fionn took the hint and readily agreed to join them, even inviting Nico along for the ride. Renar nodded towards both of them, already starting to make his way toward the armory.

"I've armor enough from the castle's stock. I'll only need to retrieve my poleaxe, which shouldn't take long. Gather at the stables, and recruit what knights you see at this hour to the task. I'll be doing the same." He said towards both of his fellows before taking his leave. On the way to and back from Candaeln's armory, he managed to rope two knights that were still awake at this hour with a hurried explanation that was summed up with "necromancer in the Cazt mausoleum, the Knight-Captain and some fellows are confronting him now".

About ten minutes later, Renar arrived at the stables with his poleaxe strapped to his back, and the duo of knights he'd found at his side. Hopefully, the other two had better luck recruiting men for a second wave to assault the necromancer.

@The Otter @Krayzikk

Fire Emblem: Crestfallen

Sheet's up. Changed Theodoric around to be dabbling in Faith magic over Reason this time, given how no one apped a Faith user last time lmao

Fire Emblem: Crestfallen

Theodoric Branden Marlon, Heir to House Marlon

[Full Name]
Theodoric Branden Marlon

[Alias]
Doric

[Affiliation]
Mordlind Concorde

[Starting Class]
Noble

[Status]
Heir to House Marlon

[Crest]
Minor Crest of Marlon

[Age]
19

[Date of Birth]
12th of the Withered Moon, Divine Year 762

[Appearance Information]
Stands at about 6'1. Has a decent amount of muscle and broad shoulders, weighing in at 190 pounds. Skin tone is fairly average, not particularly tan nor pale either way. Wears the standard uniform, but with a short white side cape mantled on his left shoulder.

[Personality]
Stern and focused, Theodoric treats his duty as both a knight and a landed noble with the utmost importance, throwing himself into his studies of war and governance. Orderly, efficient, and composed, Theodoric looks down upon excessive arrogance and ostentatious displays, being a good deal more subdued in his interactions. One wouldn't be able to tell his family's wealth from his possessions, with his preferred sword being more functional than fashionable and his preferred clothing being light, practical garments. The only concession he makes to vanity is his fondness for capes, and his only vices are good wine and imported coffee.

Despite his understanding of the political field and the knowledge that one day he could potentially wind up being the Speaker of the Concorde, Theodoric bears little taste for politics and desperately hopes he is never chosen for the position. If given the choice, he would vastly prefer remaining on his family estate, overseeing Marlon's lands and people.

[Personal History]
In truth, Theodoric had never been the preferred heir to House Marlon. The bloodline was stronger in his elder sister, Gwendolyn, given that she possessed a Major Crest of Marlon compared to Theodoric's Minor Crest. That, and her influence in the political arena had many observers whispering that she would have been a strong candidate for the next Speaker should she inherit House Marlon before the current one passed. However, after graduating from the Officers' Academy, Gwendolyn went missing on a routine patrol when Theodoric was but ten years of age, and after months of fruitless searching, the title of heir passed to the young boy.

Before becoming heir, Theodoric had been a rather carefree child, but upon his sister's disappearance, the boy was forced to grow up rather quickly. He threw himself into his studies and his training, seeking to match the expectations his parents had of Gwendolyn once upon a time. Years later, most accounts would suggest he'd been successful. Theodoric may not have had his sibling's charm or her prodigious sword skill, but his abilities in the fields of knighthood and administration were just as good as the previous heir's. Still, this wasn't enough for him. After learning all he could from what tutors that House Marlon could find, the next logical step was the Officers' Academy. Theodoric seeks to become as worthy a leader as he can for House Marlon, its subject people, and its lands.

[Preferred Fighting Style]
Swords

[Equipment]
Training Sword
Vulnerary

[Learned Spells]
Heal

[Interests]

• Swordsmanship
• Winemaking
• Administration
• Fishing

[Likes]

• Seafood
• Coffee
• Sparring
• White wines
• Military treatises
• Poker

[Dislikes]

• Hot weather
• Flying
• Loud people
• Dairy

Voice claim: Justin Gross